


Breaking & Entering

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Credence Barebone Crying During Sex, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Gellert Grindelwald Being Creepy, Glove Kink, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masks, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multiple Orgasms, Original Percival Graves is a Softie, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voice Kink, fingering with leather gloves, graves shushing during sex, naked vs clothed, self indulgent nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 06:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Graves is a Gentleman Thief with a dash of vigilante, on the way to his next target, he stumbles upon a veritable princess in a tower.Or, Credence lives in Grindelwald's attic and likes to sleep naked.





	Breaking & Entering

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edvic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edvic/gifts).



> b/c reasons.  
> and hi. im finally back.
> 
>  
> 
> Edit 5/14/18:  
> Gorgeous cover pieces by Eddie himself   
> ❤

****

* * *

 

The night was stifling, but Credence couldn’t bear to leave the window open overnight, as it was without a screen, and the last thing he needed was _more_ creepy crawlers in the house. It’s bad enough avoiding the big one, Mister Grindelwald that was, on a day to day basis. He settled back into the bed, tried his best to ignore the lumps in the mattress, and closed his eyes, willing sleep to find him. Hours passed, and he thought he might have begun to doze off, until…

A whisper of sound, like a bat or butterflies wings filled the air, and he wondered dimly if he _did_ leave the window cracked, and now it had blown open all the way. _Fuck_.

He opened his eyes and started to shrug off the blanket but halted immediately at the sound of a creak in the wooden slats on the floor. Not the wind then.

He turned to the window but all he could see was darkness, seconds before something heavy forced him back flat into the bed. Like steel girders, he was being crushed between strong legs on either side of his waist, and there was the smell of leather on his face, under his nose.

A gloved hand was clamped over his mouth, and all he could think was how scared he was. But there would be no point in bothering to shout or cry for help, Grindelwald won’t come save him.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t struggle, but he could still breathe through his nose, so he won’t die, trapped in his bed, naked and starting to sweat.

“Shh-hh. You promise not to scream if I let you go?”

Credence could only see the gleam of the intruder’s eyes behind a black mask, with the small amount of light that the moon granted, as his own vision adjusted to the dark, and then he nodded.

The leather covered hand retreated, and he gave a shuddering gasp, chest heaving as he took deep gulps of air, and his arms flexed against the blankets he was stuck under. The way the intruder was perched over him, kneeling on the bed, it was like he’s already been tied up, kept from struggling or trying to free his hands.

“Who are you?”

“That’s a secret, of course. You can’t just ask a masked man who he is. Where’s the fun in that?”

Credence swallowed and the man smiled at him, as his teeth glitter in the dark.

“Are you here to-”

He broke off, and his heartbeat pounded a touch faster, suddenly hyper aware of every little thing, the heat of the man’s breath on his neck, his gloved hand still holding his face, fingers caressing his cheek, and now to his shame, he could feel himself growing hard.

“I do have a purpose here, my boy. But you’re a lovely diversion. Forgive me. I simply can’t linger here.”

The man’s voice was far too alluring and smooth. Nothing like Grindelwald’s raspy simpering tone. He’d thought at first that it was Grindelwald and maybe the mask was merely a trick, but there was no way. This man was someone else entirely, and Credence wanted to know more.

But he was already retreating, climbing off of Credence’s pathetic excuse for a bed, and he prayed in an instant that his cock won’t betray him. Blessedly, though he’s hard, his cock was still trapped between his thighs. He was spared the indignity of his blankets revealing his arousal at such a thing. Intruders were meant to be feared, not desired.

“Get some sleep, it’ll be morning before you know it.”

“Will I see you again?” Credence couldn’t help asking.

The man smiled a touch wider, and tapped the side of his mask, like a salute,

“It’s very likely. Good evening.”

He was gone then, in a flurry of footsteps, almost silent as the grave, and Credence found himself wishing he could descend those stairs as equally light footedly.

Grindelwald always caught him when he tried to leave the attic. So he stopped. He accepted his fate. Long ago.

The man didn’t come back by him, so he suspected that he must have escaped another way. Credence then laid awake until the dawn began to break, aching and shivering, unwilling to give in to the urge to touch himself. He doesn’t understand why he had become so aroused from such a dangerous situation. The man who’d stolen into the attic in the dead of night had to be a thief of some kind, yet Credence didn’t know what Grindelwald had of such value that needed to be protected, his money was safe and secure in a bank vault somewhere.

In his country estate in which Credence lived, there wasn’t much. It would be too hard to steal furniture or art, besides, there were alarms on most of the expensive paintings. He sighed, and turned over in his bed, facing the window, before squeezing his eyes shut, and letting exhaustion claim him.

 

* * *

 

 

Graves pulled on his gloves, and straightened his mask in the mirror, winking at his reflection. When he’d originally traveled to Grindelwald’s second manor, he’d had big plans to slip in the attic, find his way to the basement safe, and get away with the proper stock numbers, the plans for the coupe, the flash drive. Instead, he’d stumbled upon a prize of another kind altogether.

Grindelwald’s _not quite_ ward. He had known the tycoon had inherited a child along with his first company, he’d adopted the enterprise that had once been a successful venture, although more like a cult than a business, and turned it into a profitable venture once again. The child had just, come with the deal, in a way.

Graves had read about it in the news many years back and thought nothing of it, working on his own plan to put the man out of business permanently. It was a racket that Grindelwald was running now, and Graves was out to prove it.

Except, he’d stumbled upon something other than dust and old heirlooms on his way through the man’s attic. The boy had been perfectly quiet, and even seemed _glad_ to see Graves, as if he was used to being alone, or preferred it, rather than socializing with Grindelwald, his only ‘family’ that he had left.

By now, if he did the math, the boy was about eighteen. He could easily leave Grindelwald’s care, if he so chose, but apparently he hadn’t. Yet.

Graves was very, very tempted to offer him residence in his own home, but he certainly didn’t want to be accused of kidnapping along with breaking and entering. He also didn’t need the extra responsibility.

Though, the boy was his only witness.

The cameras he had disabled, motion sensors he had shut down, and all that had remained was a laughable excuse for an alarm on the door to his basement office. Graves had been doing this sort of thing for years, when necessary, so it took little effort. At the last second, he had made the choice not to go back out through the attic, and instead left through the front door.

He would be back.

Within a week, as it turned out.

 

The night was clear, and the moon was a crescent now, providing very little actual light, so Graves chose his special contacts with night vision filters, and then took off across the lawn of the Grindelwald estate, eyes on his prize, the highest window. Climbing was once again effortless, and by the time he was pushing the window up silently and slipping inside, it had truly reached the witching hour. After crossing the space between the wall and the bed, he switched off his night vision, and made his way over to the boy, easing back atop his prone form. It wasn’t until he reached up to cover the boy’s mouth once again that he noticed something very important. Beneath the fabric of Graves’ elegantly cut suit, warmth from the boy’s naked skin seeped through the layers. As if he was feverish, and lying in wait.

“Mmph.”

Graves smirked,

“Hello again. Clever thing, out of the covers, I can’t contain you nearly as well. You won’t try to fight me now, will you?”

The boy shook his head, and kept his hands at his sides, obediently, though Graves could _feel_ the boy’s cock stirring under his own trousers.

“Excited to see me?” To his utter mortification, his voice sounded raspy. _He_ was getting off on that fact. How, why, when did he become so weak?

Graves moved his fingers off the boy’s mouth to allow him a short reply,

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m amazed at your preparation. I wonder, were you hoping I would do _this_ again?”

Graves shifted back to keep his hand over the boy’s mouth, allowing him to nod or shake his head for a reply, and was rewarded with a smile, along with a slight kiss to his gloved fingertips.

He was tempted to put his night vision back on just so he could properly enjoy the sight of the miles of beautiful pale skin bared to his gaze, but instead, he settled for kissing every bit he can reach. He had shaved his beard as close as he could, so the only scrape was from the edge of his mask when he turned his face just so, putting his mouth to the side of the boy’s neck, the curve where it met his shoulder, and he bit him right there, before licking and moving down. He was rewarded with a gasp, and a soft rolling of the slender hips under his waist, forcing the boy’s cock to nudge into his stomach, possibly smearing precum over the fabric of his vest.

“Mmmph.”

“What is it, my boy? Am I not doing as you want? Do not forget, I am in control.”

It was a small lie, and yet Graves was delighted by the slow nod he felt against his fingers, and the consequential relaxing of the boy’s body, allowing him to continue. He was straddling the boy’s waist, but eager to move back so he could better reach for his cock, while keeping one hand braced over his plush lips and chin, ensuring he stayed quiet. The second Graves’ other gloved hand curls around the boy’s cock, he feels the boy’s entire body shiver, and he glanced up just in time to catch a glimpse of long lashes fluttering over his cheeks.

“Is that what you want? You want me to touch you with my hands, or something else?”

A slight shake of the head, and he lets go of the boy’s cock, watching how it responds, twitching and curving up hard against his bare thigh, shiny at the tip.

Something like a plea muffled its way out of the boy’s mouth, and Graves smirked.

“So...my mouth perhaps? But then I cannot tell of all the things I would do to you, were we in _my_ bed. How disappointing.”

The boy hummed against his fingers, gently biting at them, and suckling hard before letting him go, writhing under him, insistently drawing Graves’ attention back to his straining cock.

“Perhaps you need to learn patience, hmm?”

He put his free hand to the boy’s cock, sliding his fingers down the length of it, before gripping tightly, and stroking halfway before going back down. The boy’s body was wound tight, like a bowstring, and Graves almost hoped that he will cry. It would only make him that much more beautiful.

“If I had the time, I would take you apart until you begged me, just to let you come. Unfortunately, I haven’t. I _do_ have work to do, so it’ll have to be quick.” He pressed a kiss to the side of the boy’s stomach, under his ribs, and then leaned down to pull the head of the boy’s cock into his mouth, laving at the slit with his tongue, and moving his hand more purposefully. The boy’s moans were blessedly muffled into his fingers, and Graves couldn’t help trying to smile, humming himself, with his eyes closing behind the mask.

The boy’s hands remained at his sides, fisting in the sheets, as Graves felt the boy beginning to get close, thighs trembling under him, hips trying to make frantic jerking motions. He curled his fingers into the boy’s mouth, testing him to see if he would reject or accept the pressure against his tongue, and instead he felt a nip and suckle at the tips once more. He groaned, and fought the urge to rut into the boy’s mattress. It was awful, not comfortable in the least, and he’d only been there a handful of minutes.

His own cock was throbbing, dripping against his boxers and threatening to soak into his dress pants, so he needed to get a move on. Graves sucked hard as he drew back on the boy’s cock, tongue pressed right against the sensitive underside, as his hand dipped lower to caress the tight swell of his sack, and the boy peaked, orgasm crashing into him. Feeling the warmth spill into his throat and over his tongue was enough to bring him through to his own climax, shamefully ruining his evening suit pants as his cock pulsed against the fabric and where he kept his hips slowly thrusting against the sheets between the boy’s parted knees.

Graves did his best to swallow everything from the boy, but god, he was so out of practice a few strands escaped him, drooling onto the boy’s stomach, as he fought to keep from choking, and put his hand flat over the boy’s leg.

Once he regained his composure and pulled off, he smiled down at the boy and hoped he wouldn’t sound too wrecked.

“Aren’t you a delicious surprise?”

He shifted his grip and dragged his thumb over the boy’s plush bottom lip, feeling as it gave to his touch. The next thing he knew, the boy was whispering,

“What about you?”

“I’m not going to fuck you, if that’s what you’re asking. I do have work to do.”

“Why does it involve my guardian?”

Graves sighed,

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Don’t you trust me? I kept your last visit a secret.”

“Our secret.”

He needed to go, for many reasons, the worst of them being, the longer he stayed, the longer he _did_ want to fuck the boy. But Graves also wanted to rescue the boy, very badly. He flicked his night vision back on, and found the boy’s eyes shining.

Wet with tears.

Goddamn, he’d been right, it made him infinitely more appealing.

“Please… will you at least kiss me goodbye?”

Graves shook his head,

“No. I won’t kiss you. Not till I can have you flat on your back in _my_ bed.”

He saw the hint of a pout, and then the boy nodded.

“Can I touch you?”

“No. I’m quite alright.”

The boy frowned,

“Did you-”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Graves grinned,

“Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance.”

With that, he climbed off the bed and sped away down the stairs, wincing at every step which made his now softened cock rub against the spend still damp in his pants. God, he was going to have to do laundry at three in the morning, how bothersome.

 

* * *

 

 

Credence laid very still, as his heart beat fast, while his breathing slowed, and his skin began to feel clammy from sweat and his own come drying on his stomach. He had not been expecting _that_ , well, anything beyond a repeat of the first night. Instead, he’d gotten something else entirely from the masked man with the leather gloves. He’d been pinned to his bed again, naked, again, and _that_ seemed invitation enough for utter ravishment, yet, the man had merely kissed every part of him _but_ his lips, before landing on his cock and sucking him off within an inch of his life.

 

Credence had never come so hard outside of a dream, much less from touching himself. It had been a fantasy made flesh, with his cock enveloped in wet warmth, and teased and rubbed against by a very talented tongue, he’d barely lasted a minute. The man had put his fingers, still clad in leather, between Credence’s lips, and he did his best to return the favor, to match the teasing, while he felt the bed shake and shudder like his own heartbeat when he came.

He’d been on the verge of begging for the man to kiss him, and instead he’d been denied, while promised more, and he was left wanting, though stated, once more.

The man didn’t leave through the window, and Credence was forced to lay awake for hours, barely stealing a few moments of sleep here and there, until the birds were chirping far too loud for him to remain abed. Upon dressing and going downstairs to see about some food, he found Grindelwald in a foul mood, as always, but now, he suspected he knew why. The masked man had stolen something important for him, a file drive, along with some documents.

At least that was what Grindelwald had been muttering about, perhaps there was more to it.

“What are you doing, standing there, like a useless bit of furniture? Go make breakfast.”

Credence nodded, and murmured apologies, hurrying away to avoid a slap. The man rarely hit him, but it was always when he least expected it, if he got too close or remained silent too long. He sighed, and began preparing the food, making sure to serve the biggest portions for Grindelwald, and his coffee was strongest as well.

He considered himself grateful to even have food, for before he’d come to live with Grindelwald, watered down soups and days old crusts of bread, discarded from the shops were all he’d had.

He had very little to his name so when it came time to return to the attic, he considered just what he would need, if the masked man were telling the truth, and really wanted to take him away. Unless he only meant for the night? Would he be returned onto Grindelwald’s doorstep, bereft of his virtue and rendered useless once more?

He didn’t truly _know_ why Grindelwald had taken him in, but he rather suspected when he had become old enough, the man would force him to be more than just his ward. Yet, his seventeenth birthday had come and gone, and still the man had never laid a finger on him, not in any way that could be called sexual in nature. Perhaps he’d been mistaken, and the man only cared for money and power.

When he’d paced around the attic and still come up empty with any idea of what to pack, he finally went over and fell onto his bed with a grunt. There was nothing, truly, that he couldn’t live without. Nightfall brought nothing of note, beyond less chirping birds and more songs from crickets. Eventually he grew too warm to remain clothed, so he stripped out of his shirt and shorts and got back into bed, just beneath a thin sheet.

The masked man had never come two nights in a row, so why should tonight be any different? Credence couldn’t help hoping, dreaming when he slept fitfully, and only waking upon realisation that he was alone, as usual.

Three days passed the same, and by the fourth, instead of proceeding to his room after dinner that night, he went to shower, and stayed in there until the water ran cold. If Grindelwald decided complain, he didn’t care. It had been so comforting and soothing he hadn’t wanted to leave, especially since the man was away for work, staying the night in the city. He was under strict orders to remain in the house, as the man would know if he left, with his security monitors around every corner. It made Credence wonder just how the masked man had managed to steal anything or move around the house undetected. Just skill, he supposed.

Once toweled off, he padded out of the bathroom in just his raggedy bathrobe and climbed back up to the attic, only to freeze at the sight of someone in his bed.

Not just _someone_.

It was the masked man. He lounged with an effortless elegance, despite the clear uncomfortable nature of the mattress as Credence knew, intimately. He smirked as he noticed Credence eyeing the mask.

“Hello.”

“Sir.”

It wasn’t very late at all. The sun was still setting in fact, so Credence had a sudden vision of them both, riding off into it together inside a flashy automobile, wind ruffling his still damp hair. As the man got to his feet and began to walk over to him, he remained in place, rooted to the spot, unable to move whether to go closer or to retreat.

“So, here I am. Do you want to leave this place?”

“I… I don’t know.”

The masked man was barely a few inches away, and Credence could see that his eyes were brown, while his hair had streaks of silver at the temples. Credence wanted nothing more than to rip the mask off and see his face entirely, it would only be fair. But instead, he almost swooned when the man’s arm wrapped around his waist, drawing him in the final gap, pulling him flush to the man’s chest, as their lips met in a firm kiss.

The man broke away just long enough for Credence to whimper and plead,

“Take me with you, yes. I’m ready.”

“Shouldn’t you put some clothes on?”

Credence shook his head minutely, and found himself smiling dreamily,

“If you take me, won’t you just undress me for your bed?”

The man almost appeared on the verge of rolling his eyes, but he was grinning back,

“If you insist. Climb on my back, and we’ll be off.”

“But… the front door?”

“Too many cameras. I’m stealing you away in the middle of the night.”

The masked man lifted him like he weighed nothing, and indeed, perhaps to such a strong and older man, Credence was a fragile creature. Outside, the night air was soothing, cool against his skin still heated from the shower, and clinging to the man’s broad shoulders while keeping his legs wrapped tight around his waist wasn’t hard. By the time they reached the ground, and the masked man told him they were almost to his car, he thought he could fall asleep holding the man.

He was almost halfway to dozing off once curled up in the backseat of the masked man’s car, a black sedan, not a convertible or red, before he realized he was missing some very important information.

“What’s your name?”

The man glanced over at him, behind his shoulder while driving them out of the woods backwards, and Credence caught the hint of a smile,

“Graves. How about you angel, what’s your name?”

“Credence… sir.”

He broke off with a yawn before he could ask anything more, and laid back down on the seat. It was stiff and smelled strongly of leather polish, but was still better than his cot bed in the attic.

Anything was, really.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was on something else. Outside of the car. He was on the softest sheets and blanket he’d ever known. He stayed as still as he could, relishing the feel, before noticing the _reason_ he could feel every inch of silky fabric on his skin was because his robe was gone. He was naked, in the masked man’s bed.

His cock began to stir between his legs, and his breathing sped up along with his heartbeat.

“You’re beautiful. The most wonderful thing I’ve ever stolen, I should think.”

Credence’s hands twitched, tightening over the sheets and he dropped his gaze from the ceiling to find the man sitting across from the bed, in a comfortable looking chair, bare chested but still clad in his mask and with his gloved hands folded in front of his chin, one finger extended to tap his bottom lip.

They _had_ kissed.

God, it felt like such a long time ago. How long had he slept?

“If this is your home, why do you steal?”

He didn’t bother pointing out that he’d gone willingly, and didn’t felt as if he’d been stolen at all.

“I was in search of some important documents along with money. I assure you, I do not take from those who do not deserve it. You managed to distract me. Quite nicely.”

Graves got up from his chair and began to walk over, dark eyes roaming over Credence’s body until his cheeks had started to grow warm. He kept his hands at his sides, and didn’t bother attempting to cover himself, but he did want, desperately, to touch the man in return, above all, he wanted him to take off the mask.

“Graves… can I see you?”

“Darling, you may. But you must promise not to touch me. I am only here to serve you.”

Credence’s jaw dropped,

“Why?”

Graves chuckled, as he was no longer just a man in a mask, he was fast approaching and putting one hand to his mouth, white even teeth gripping a finger of his glove, to remove it with such a smooth motion that somehow, impossibly, it made Credence even harder.

“Because, with such a treasure as you, I intend to never leave you wanting again. I will not be selfish. I aim to possess you.”

He noticed that Graves left one glove on as he tossed away the other, before then reaching for the back of his mask with his bared hand, as Credence watched, heart in his throat, the black silk fell away, revealing a handsome, if well aged face to match the rest of his alluring self.

He might be the same age as Grindelwald, but he was infinitely more handsome, well preserved, healthy. The lines around his eyes were from smiling and merriment, not anger. He crawled onto the bed, pinning Credence beneath the broad strength of his body once again, and he could barely breathe.

“Am I all that you dreamed, my boy?”

Credence shook his head slowly, and tilted his chin up, begging wordlessly for a kiss,

“Better.”

“You flatter me.”

“I mean it. What are you going to do with me, now that you have me?”

Graves smiled against his lips, and a shiver ran down his spine at the promise,

“You’ll see.”

His pants were still on, Credence couldn’t help noticing, so he was hesitant to grind up against them, but when Graves applied the hand still clad in his glove to his cock, he couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, and the way the man left his mouth to kiss the side of his neck, before nipping at the junction of his shoulder and collarbone made him squeak.

“Good boy. I can’t wait for you to come again.” He said it like it was a guarantee, and Credence would have protested the certainty, but when Graves curled his fingers around Credence’s cock and gave him a single firm stroke, that was when he knew that yes, indeed it was.

Before Graves could even get his mouth over the head of Credence’s cock he was coming, long wet ropes that spilled over the man’s cheek and onto his stomach, leaving him gasping for air and shuddering, hands still fisted on the bed sheets.

Graves chuckled softly, and began to lick up the mess of Credence’s spend, making him writhe and moan from hypersensitivity, while he fought to keep his hips still.

“Graves, sir, please, can I see _you_?”

“You want me naked too? Is that right?”

“Yes!”

The leather was warm from his skin as Graves’ hand dipped between his legs, thumbing over his balls and below, rubbing against his hole, making him jump and cry out.

“Then what? Should I fuck you into the mattress, like you thought I was going to before?”

“Would you?”

Credence’s hands let go of the sheets, and he barely realized what he had done, reaching for Graves’ head to touch his hair and caress his face, before his wrists were being held in the man’s bare fingers, and he couldn’t do anything but watch as they were guided above his head, and gently pushed into the pillows.

“Ah-ah-ah. No touching.”

“Please!”

“Should I tie you up?”

Credence’s cock twitched, and he found himself nodding before he could think better of it.

Graves blinked down at him, and then his lips quirked in a smile.

“Alright.”

In an instant, Graves was off of him, walking over to the other side of the room, and opening a small set of drawers. Credence sat up slightly to watch, heart still pounding, and he saw a silver gleam in the man’s hands when he began to return.

“This will keep you in place… hmm?”

Graves used his free hand to properly attach Credence’s hands to the head of the bed, both cuffed firmly but not painfully so, and then he moved back to undo his pants, and shoved them and his underwear down, before kicking them away.

Now, even if he couldn’t touch, Credence could look all he wanted, so he did.

Graves was built like a climber, with the most defined muscles in his arms and shoulders, though his legs were broad and toned, he only had eyes for the man’s cock, now that it was finally bared to him.

“Now, where were we?”

Graves snagged something from a bedside drawer, and then put his gloved hand back between Credence’s legs, making his back arch as his wrists strained against the cuffs. The cool touch was slippery wet, and made it almost too easy for him to nudge a fingertip halfway inside his hole, though it felt strange with the leather over his skin.

“Sir! Will you kiss me again? Please?”

“Since you ask so sweetly, I shall.”

Graves smiled before their lips met once more, and Credence hardly noticed when he eased his finger in deeper, and added a second, the stretch enough to burn, up until the man’s fingers hit something inside him that made sparks flash and burst behind his closed eyelids.

“Oh!”

His cock was thickening again over his stomach, and Graves chuckled before dragging his mouth away from Credence’s lips, teasing over his jaw and back down his neck.

“Something tells me that move is a hit.”

He rubbed over it again with more purpose, and Credence keened, grinding his hips down, trying to beg for more.

“Something you want to ask, my gorgeous boy?”

“Yes! Please, may I have your cock?”

“Polite, aren’t you? You want my cock inside you? You want me to fuck you until you cry for me to stop?”

“Yes.”

But he wouldn’t. He never wanted to stop.

 

* * *

 

 

Graves was in agony, he was dying to get inside the boy, to thrust home into the tight hot grip of his ass. But he promised it would be for Credence, and only about Credence, so he waited, he lingered and teased some more, murmuring in a low voice what he would do if he had more patience. He’s already got the boy tied up and pinned to the bed, but he’d gladly keep him like that, squirming and pleading and crying until he couldn’t come anymore.

That would have to be another time. Graves had no more patience.

He could bring the boy off once more, and so he leaned down, to put his lips to the soft dip of his stomach, the sharp bone of his hip, and the lower, past the dark downy curls over his cock, until he tastes leather and sweet chemicals from the lube, while reaching up to stroke over Credence with his bare hand, he blinked, and then the boy was coming, small spurts of white into Graves’ palm and over his skin.

He slowly kissed his way back up the boy’s body, and stroked his gloved hand over his cock, coating it as best he could with the remaining lube, before shedding it aside, and scooping his clean hand under the arch of the boy’s back. He pulled Credence flush to his chest, just so that his arms are kept straight, taut with the cuffs against the headboard, and he could line up to easily thrust inside the boy with one smooth stroke, his jaw dropped in a groan with every inch of heat that gripped his cock.

“Sir! Oh sir, oh god, it’s too much…”

He didn’t know what to tell the boy, he should have been perfectly fine, he’d come twice. He knew Credence had spent himself numerous times imagining this very moment, and yet Graves can’t stop, can’t slow, he was driving himself home, buried up to the hilt, and trembling from the effort of holding himself up along with Credence.

“Please!”

He let him down gently, only so that he could do as promised, and pulled out halfway to thrust back in, before starting up a steady rhythm of pounding Credence into the mattress, barely aware of his repeated sounds, gasping and whimpering, before he pressed his mouth into the crook of Graves’ shoulder, and seemed content to muffle his cries into his skin.

Graves knew he was not going to make it very long, his perfect control had already fractured twice, each time as he brought Credence off all he wanted was to give into the boy’s desire, his wish to touch and taste and no doubt, he would be very good at it.

But Graves needed more.

He’d stolen the prize of Grindelwald’s collection, and in the process, lost something of his own.

His heart.

Credence shook and clenched around him and under him, and bit him, but still doesn’t shrink away, and when he came a third time, it was from Graves’ cock continuing to stab right against his prostate, almost forcing him into it with a low moan, and an answering shiver.

“God, fuck. Credence, I can’t…”

He groaned and his hips stilled, finally, as his cock emptied itself into Credence, and he found himself becoming overwhelmed with sensations. He responded with more tactile contact, it was in the way he kept kissing the boy’s neck, marking him minimally, and his hands were so sore, braced flat on the bed, while his arm muscles spasmed and threatened to give out. He fears he might crush the boy as he lands, but worse, Credence would be hurt, his wrists at that angle from the cuffs... so, much as it pained _Graves_ , he withdrew. Ignoring the wet and warm slide of his own release over his softening cock, he collapsed to the side, fighting for breath.

On Credence’s stomach the evidence of his last climax glistened, and Graves smiled, barely aware of anything beyond the pounding of his heartbeat.

“Graves… I think I love you.”

“You’re here, with me. You can stay as long as you like. No need for such pretty lies from the mouth of an angel.”

His hands itched, he wanted to trace those plush lips with his thumb, he wanted to put his soft cock between them, make the boy hold him and keep him warm for hours, while he went through the files he’d stolen from Grindelwald and prepared to bring his criminal empire down to just ashes.

“I mean it. No one’s ever treated me like you did. You could have hurt me. Killed me in my sleep. But you didn’t.”

What he had done was worse, but he remained silent, except for a hum of acknowledgement.

“You stole my heart from me while I slept, and I never want it back. I just want yours.”

He reached out and clicked open the cuffs, only for Credence to roll over on top of him, and kiss him fiercely. He brought a hand up to hug the boy close, and he nuzzled against Graves’ neck.

“Never let me go. I want to be yours.”

“You are.”

It’s simple, quiet, the only confession he’d ever allow himself to make, but it was enough. Credence settled against him, uncaring of the mess between his thighs, and Graves’ heartbeat slowed.

  


 

* * *

 

**END**


End file.
